


Counting the Seconds

by Luki



Series: Dr. Stone Week: Luki Edition [1]
Category: Dr. STONE (Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Character Death, Day 1 - Time and Space, Dr. STONE Week, Gen, Suffering, Zombie Associated violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:01:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24960487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luki/pseuds/Luki
Summary: 15,768,245 seconds ago, the world as Ishigami Senku knew it, came to an end.In one world, the apocalypse came when the world turned to stone.  In another, it came when the dead started walking the Earth.
Series: Dr. Stone Week: Luki Edition [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1811146
Comments: 12
Kudos: 169
Collections: Dr. Stone Week 2020





	Counting the Seconds

**Author's Note:**

> What happens when Youtube starts recommending zombie survival videos and you get a little obsessed with the Walking Dead Telltale games.
> 
> Writing for Day 1 of the Dr. Stone Week: Time and Space (Time Travel, AU or Counting)
> 
> While an AU there are SPOILERS REGARDING CHARACTERS FROM THE MANGA.

Taiju has been gone 9,992 seconds.

In the grand scheme of things, it’s an infinitesimal number. But counting is what is keeping Senku sane right now. Keeping track of every second for every choice, to keep him grounded in a world determined not to make sense.

Rationally, he knows he should be inside the apartment, keeping his voice down, but instead he’s pacing along the main walkway, continually glancing out at the wreckage that was once the outskirts of Tokyo. Every now and then, he hears a moan, and looks towards the barricade they’ve put together at the front of the apartment’s car park, and sees one of  _ them _ shuffling by. Rotting flesh, tattered clothing, and that empty gaze.

Sometimes, they used to hear screaming before the  _ them _ showed up, but it’s been 5,256,432 seconds since the last time.

Each time, he grips the screwdriver he keeps constantly in his pocket, and reminds himself that just one isn’t going to break through their defences. And even if it could, they can’t get to the base.

10,543 seconds. On average, Taiju returns before he makes it to 11,000, just over three hours. 

557 seconds to go.

* * *

The start of the end of the world began 15,768,245 seconds ago, but Senku suspects he’s one of the few people who realises that. 

It started small. A handful of news articles buried in the middle of websites, people getting sick, and a raised increase in brutal and unprovoked attacks. Senku hadn’t thought anything of it, more focused on the science pages, and keeping tabs on Byakuya’s launch information. 

Two days later, Senku went online and realised not a single foreign news site has updated in 12 hours. In the modern era of information, that shouldn’t be possible. But his panic goes unnoticed for the far more interesting local story. One of Taiju’s teammates on the baseball team missed class, but posted a photo on social media of ‘the sick bite mark some crazy mugger gave me.’

Nobody ever saw that teammate again, and 24,300 seconds later, near the end of the school day, the building suddenly found itself teeming with  _ them. _

He’s in the science club when he sees the first attacks from the window. At first, they hear the screaming, which leads Tojiro and Komui to the windows. Then they start screaming.

“Holy crap! Someone’s getting attacked!” Tojiro screams, and it’s panicked enough to drag everyone, Senku included, to the windows. His eyes widen in shock, pure instinctive panic overwriting any higher thought.

There’s a girl – Senku doesn’t know her name – with her head snapped back so far, it’s clear she can’t still be alive, and a taller man grabbing her by the shoulders. His head is shoved between her head and shoulders, and Senku can see the red blood dripping down her yellow uniform.

“I’m calling 110,” someone says, though it sounds distant.

“I’ll call the ambulance,” says another.

“Wait, engaged? How can it be engaged?”

“I can’t get through either!”

The whole time, Senku is just watching, focused on the sight. He’s seeing, but not registering.

_ ‘That shouldn’t be possible, _ ’ he thinks.  _ ‘A human might have enough jaw strength to rip out someone’s throat, but actually chewing and eating at that speed isn’t possible without destroying your muscles. You’d have to have absolutely no pain receptors and accept destroying your teeth and jaw.’ _

Senku blinks as another student throws himself into the fray, pulling at the man’s shoulders and ripping his head up. Senku can just make out the pale skin and rolled back eyes when the student punches the man to the ground, as another student, someone Senku thinks might be called Shiori, one of Yuzuriha’s friends, rushes to the fallen girl's side. She’s trying to put pressure on the neck injury, but Senku can tell from here that it’s too late.

“Look!” Tojrio screams, and Senku finally drags his eyes away to look at the school gate. There are several people walking into the grounds. Well,  _ walking  _ is a stretch – they’re shambling, staggering as if they don’t know how to use their legs, with their arms outreached. All of them are pale...and all of them are covered in blood.

Then there’s screaming, and Senku yanks his eyes back to the first attack. The student trying to pin the man down has lost his grip, and the man has pulled him in, trying to bite his neck while he desperately attempts to pull away, and Shiori is shrieking at a high pitch, the dead girl suddenly not so dead, and her own teeth clamped down on Shiori’s arm. The new shamblers are immediately drawn in the direction of the screaming, either going straight towards her, or heading for the doors where panicked students are fleeing back.

An idea goes through Senku’s brain, and he immediately dismisses it.

_ ‘No. You can’t draw conclusions just yet. They’re not meant to be real, everything about them is based on fantasy.’ _

His friends however, have no such compulsion to hold back.

“It’s a fucking zombie attack!” Hojo wails.

“This is only supposed to happen in America!” Komui says. “We don’t have guns, how do we beat zombies!”

“Don’t call them zombies!” Senku snaps. Zombies are fictional, and the last thing they need to do is associate traits of fictional creatures to a genuine infection. That’s how fatal mistakes are made.

And yet, isn’t all fantasy based at least partially in truth?

Crap, now everyone is looking at him. Probably because he’s the only one not frantically panicking. He looks them over, and takes a deep breath.

_ ‘Okay, think about this logically. If zombie movies weren’t a thing, how would you approach this.’ _

“We need to get out of the school,” he says, walking over to his bag and then the cupboards, looking for the most practical chemicals. “Grab whatever looks useful, and try and cover your bare skin.”

“Wait...shouldn’t we try and fortify the school?” Komui asks. Senku shakes his head.

“Not worth the effort. Too many people, not enough resources. The school is designed to be accessible, and we’ll never be able to block every route if the people getting bit overrun us.”

“Then...where do we go?”

Before Senku can answer, a teacher comes to the class door.

“Everyone, you’re to make your way to the auditorium immediately,” he orders. “This is an emergency situation.”

Senku’s eyes widened. 

“That’s a terrible idea,” he says. The teacher however, just scowls.

“No backtalk right now, Ishigami,” he says. “Everyone, move.”

He runs out the door, clearly heading for the next club room, and everyone starts glancing between the door and Senku...before heading for the door.

“Sorry Senku, but if the teachers are ordering it...” Hojo says.

“Maybe they know more than we do?” Komui adds, and Senku frowns as they leave.

He gets the rationale, but from the small amount of data he’d received from watching the attack, these things are drawn to noise. Putting every single person still in this school in a single room designed to amplify sound, with multiple doors and very little in supplies just sounds like a catastrophic idea. He doesn’t follow, and instead continues to fill his bag with any chemical he thinks he can carry without damage.

“Senku!”

His shoulders rise, then drop in relief as Taiju bursts in, a rather panicked Yuzuriha at his side. He’s also carrying his baseball bat, and Senku applauds the rarely seen good sense.

“Senku! You’re here!” Taiju says in relief. “There are zombies invading the school!”

“Not calling them zombies!” Senku insists. “Are the two of you okay?”

He doesn’t show it, but he’s extremely relieved when both of them nod.

“We were on our way out when a zom- I mean, one of them burst through the door,” Yuzuriha says. “It grabbed me, but Taiju was able to pull it off.”

“We ran back here,” Taiju continues. “The teachers said to head to the auditorium, but I knew you’d know what to do.”

Senku wishes he had that kind of assurance.

“We need to leave,” he says, and gestures to Yuzuriha to come closer. “Grab these, and we’re going to head out.”

“You’re not going to join everyone?” she asks as she takes the bag, and Senku shakes his head. While the auditorium makes sense in the short term, especially for those that don’t live within walking distance to the school, the way the attacks happen, the speed at which people are getting infected, how the zom- how  _ they  _ react to the uninfected…

“I’m going to head home,” he says and pulls out his phone again, not surprised to find he’s getting no signal.

“If this doesn’t get resolved quickly, nobody will be able to leave that building for some time,” he explains, putting it back in his pocket. “That’s a lot of people, and nowhere near enough supplies. My apartment isn’t that far, and it’s both well stocked and easy to fortify.”

They just have to cross two point two kilometres. A twenty five minute walk under pristine conditions, but with the necessary detours due to panicked citizens, blocked roads and  _ them _ , Senku calculates it’ll probably take twice as long. But the longer they wait, the harder it’ll get.

Taiju is already nodding, on board with any plan Senku has, but Yuzuriha looks torn.

“You don’t have to come,” Senku assures her, and she flushes red.

“It’s not that,” she says. “I just...I need to make sure my parents are okay.”

“Oh right, of course!” Taiju bursts out, and Senku’s eyes soften. 

Right. Unlike them, Yuzuriha actually has family in Tokyo to worry about. Unfortunately, they don’t live close to him.

“If you come with us, I’ll make sure you have supplies to take to them, once it’s safe” Senku offers. “And if this doesn’t blow over, we’ll try and get you there.”

Yuzuriha’s shoulders relax, and she smiles.

“Okay then, let’s go.”

* * *

He never should have promised her that, but at the time, he’d still hoped that this wasn’t the apocalyptic event Taiju kept suggesting it was. 

His call to leave the school had turned out to be the right one. While his expectations of blocked roads and panicked people were correct, there were only a small number of  _ them  _ on the streets. But then, he doesn’t live near any hospitals, and this ‘pandemic’ is still in the early stages, so alternative care sites aren’t in full development yet. They make it there in forty minutes, keeping their heads down and their ears up, and Senku is genuinely grateful to find the apartment building looks unharmed. 

His neighbours however, hadn’t had the same relief. They were filling their cars with suitcases, and running round like panicked rats.

_ “You should leave too,” they’d told him. “It’s not safe here.” _

Senku on the other hand, had warned them about leaving.

_ “Everyone in the city is going to be trying to get out! This building only has two entrances and everything you need. It’s better to stay!’ _

No one had listened, and Senku blamed the media and general panic. The truth is, home is probably the safest place for anyone right now. You have food, shelter, first aid, and you know it like the back of your hand. In the end, there’s just the three of them in their top floor apartment, and the Ruuto’s family – who have young children but no car to flee with – on the second.

The first thing they do is blockade the entrance. There’s a wall around the building, creating the car park for the residents, and between large bins, parts pulled from a crashed car in the street, and anything they could plunder from nearby, they have a semi-decent gate to keep  _ them  _ out.

Then they hit the stairwell, and as well as affixing a new bolt on the entrance, Senku fashions a heavy gate with weights at the top of the first floor, to make it untraversable without someone on the inside. 

“ _ I understand why you suggested staying now, _ ” Ruuto had told him, once he’d finished gaping at the contraption.  _ “You already had an apocalypse kit in your bedroom.” _

Yuzuriha and Taiju had both nodded in agreement, and Senku mentally thanks Byakuya for indulging just about every scientific idea his brat of a kid had ever composed.

Then again, Byakuya had been smart in many ways Senku hadn’t been. He had been many things, and one of them was a worrier. While he was aware Senku was probably the most self-sufficient teenager in Japan, he also knew he could get lost in whatever he was working on. So the last time he’d flown to America, he’d stuffed the kitchen with easy, long lasting food, to ensure Senku wouldn’t have to worry about going hungry or supplies going out of date. It means that for the first few weeks, none of them have to leave. Even Yuzuriha hesitates, admitting that leaving while the streets are panicked is a bad decision, and decides her parents would want her to wait, since she’s safe for now, and they hunker down to ride it out.

But it doesn’t stop them from seeing the world outside.

There’s screaming, there’s sirens, there’s that almost constant  _ moaning _ in the street. As the screams and sirens stop, it just multiplies.

Two people beg for shelter while they hide out. A rough looking punk and a red headed cop, who tries to threaten them with his gun before he realises they’re already letting them in. Sadly, the man was bitten on his thigh, and decided not to tell anyone – not even the cop he was sharing a room with. They’re only aware of the incident, when they wake up to his screams. The bitten has died, revived and immediately bit the cop’s shoulder.

Senku remembers hearing people scream, and someone other than Taiju taking his bat and beating the assailant’s head till it stopped, but he’s disassociating, counting seconds in his head. The two were attacked 2,340 seconds before they arrived at their home. He turned at approximately 44,100 seconds later. 

An infection speed of just under 13 hours? That rate is borderline impossible, and means the cop hasn’t a chance. He seems to realise it too, looking at the wound in panic, before looking at the corpse, and then at the group in the door. His eyes are wide and uncomprehending, but he fumbles for his gun.

“Wait!” Senku remembers saying, only to flinch back as the cop shoves the barrel in his mouth and shoots. People behind him started screaming after that, and there’s a hoard at their door for hours, drawn to the noise, but the cop doesn’t become one of  _ them,  _ proving it takes a head wound to stop one.

Another cursory glance of the gun, once pried from the man’s hand, reveals it’s empty. In a world fallen apart, he’d clearly been unable to get the bullets to make it anything more than a bluff – and made a point to save just one for himself.

* * *

One month, or 2,628,000 seconds later, is when everyone starts to register that this isn’t going to just blow over. The government has lost control, if they ever had it to begin with, and they’re on their own.

Ruuto’s oldest son is eight, and is the first to snap when their supplies started to dwindle. He risks jumping over the blockade when it’s quiet, and even though Taiju jumps over and yanks him back, the success emboldens him.

“We do need more supplies,” Ruuto had insisted, and crossed the blockade. He takes a walkie talkie Senku had in his pile of tech and modded to high heaven, and goes scouting. The next time, he takes Taiju. The third, Senku and Yuzuriha.

They barely recognised the city. There are boarded windows, busted doors, burnt out cars, and the only figures on the street aren’t human. All the while, Senku tries to mentally map out the city, to figure out the right spots to check.

At one point, they stop by the school. There’s a giant barricade at the gates...that’s been ripped apart from the outside, and dozens of  _ them  _ wearing school uniforms are walking inside the grounds.

Senku makes a point not to stop by there again.

It’s three weeks into their scavenging, that they make their first mistake. Ruuto takes his son on a search, along with Taiju. Senku and his wife argue about taking the kid, but Ruuto insists it’ll be fine. There are hardly any  _ them _ around where they’ll be looking, and he needs to stretch his legs.

An hour later, and Senku is drawn to the balcony at the sound of Taiju’s screaming voice, and Ruuto quickly follows him over the first blockade, chased by a herd of  _ them _ . His son is in his arms...with blood on his t-shirt. When they get upstairs, Ruuto’s wife bursts into tears when they lift it up to see the bite.

“What happened?” she screams, grabbing her husband's shirt and shaking him furiously. He doesn’t seem to register it, lost in a state of shock.

“We told him to be quiet,” Taiju says, barely high enough to call it a whisper, but it catches everyone’s attention regardless. “But he kept yelling, and asking to explore the stores. When we heard them coming, he wouldn’t hide.”

The kid hadn’t understood, Senku realises. He’s been pinned inside their home the whole time, and every time he jumped the blockade, it had been clear. He had no idea that stepping outside was dangerous, that his actions would have deadly consequences.

Worst of all, is when Ruuto looks at him with desperate hope, and asks. “Can you do anything?”

His wife and Taiju share the expression, and only Yuzuriha looks away, understanding the truth.

“No,” he says. He hasn’t exactly had the resources to study this phenomenon, but as much as he hates the ‘Z’ word, the infection seems to work just like fiction. “If it was on his leg or his arm, maybe, but not on his stomach.”

The light dies in Ruuto’s eyes, but a fire starts to burn in his wife’s.

“No,” she says. “I refuse to accept that. There has to be a cure. We’ll head to the nearest hospital. Maybe they’re working on something.”

Senku had warned them against it. The hospital will be deep in  _ them _ . One of the original hotspots, and even if they’d cleared out, it would have been picked clean by scavengers. If there are medical personnel working on a cure, it won’t be at a hospital.

(And even if there was, the way the infection spreads is too quick. The kid won’t make it unless they stumble upon it right now).

But she refuses to be moved, and her husband, too broken to argue, bundles up their youngest, only five years old, and convince Yuzuriha and Taiju to distract the hoard at the door long enough for them to slip away. They take the dead cop’s gun, to use as a bluff, and go looking for a miracle.

They never return, and Senku counts the date in his list of seconds.

* * *

The scavenging parties take a far more serious note after that. There’s less mouths, but also less people to search, and they’re now painfully aware of the risk. The next time they go out, it’s to a furniture store – one of the few places Senku was positive would be free of people, and have what they need. They hunt down genuine leather sofas, and hack the fabric to pieces. Yuzuriha then makes all three of them overalls, and leaving the building while wearing one is made mandatory.

However, the loss of the Ruuto’s clearly affects Yuzuriha more than she lets on. Senku finds her staring at the gate from the balcony more than once, looking in the direction of her home. Taiju tries to keep her distracted, refusing to let her do anything alone, but Senku can see her becoming distant. 

A few times, he wonders if he should approach her. Tell her how her plan is ultimately futile – her parents would both have been at work when this thing hit, and they worked in the epicentre. Her father right next to the hospital.

But then he looks up at the sky, and keeps silent.

One night, she dons her leather suit, and slips away. When she gets to the front door, there’s a backpack, filled with a third of their supplies.

5,080,320 seconds after the world ends, Yuzuriha vanishes.

* * *

It’s been 1,935,360 seconds since Yuzuriha left. 

Taiju is almost inconsolable for days. When he eventually recovers, his first thought is to go after her. Senku’s still not sure how he convinced him not to, but suspects it’s got more to do with the fact that Yuzuriha knows where they are and aren’t likely to move, rather than Senku reminding him why they hadn’t gone to her house in the first place.

It’s not that Senku doesn’t want to. He dearly wishes he could have followed through on his word to help her, but even Yuzuriha had known the risks weren’t worth risking all three of them. Too many are dead from unnecessary risks as it is. 

Still, 11,203 seconds later, Senku is pacing the balcony, praying that Taiju comes back the way he has each time before.

In his hand, a modded walkie talkie crackles, and he lifts it to his ear.

“Where are, you big oaf?” he says, hoping he doesn’t sound nervous. His heart sinks when he hears Taiju breathing heavily – say what you want about him, but Taiju does not tire easily.

“Hey, um, Senku,” he gasps. “So, I tried to cross the river to get to Yuzu-”

Senku immediately tenses.

“Dammit Taiju! I told you!”

“I know! But I wanted to, well...I got hurt. And I think the zombies-”

“Not zombies.”

“Can smell the blood. They’re chasing me, so we’re going to have company.”

Almost as if waiting for their cue, the air is filled with groaning, and Senku curses, running for the stairwell as he spots a fast moving blur legging it towards the blockade, followed by a literal herd. Taiju clears the gap in two steps, but stumbles as he lands. By the time he makes it to the stairwell gate, there are hundreds of them at the door, and Senku’s brain is running in overdrive, staring at the blood on Taiju’s pant leg.

A bite takes somewhere around 44,000 seconds to kill. He can maybe cut off the leg, but dammit, the injury is so high up, it might already be too late. 

Senku can’t do this alone. There’s zero percent chance he’ll make it more than a week without someone at his side. 

And more than that...he doesn’t want to kill Taiju. If the idiot’s gone and gotten himself bitten... 

Well, Senku might just go ahead and let him bite him at this point.

Taiju however, utters the five words Senku desperately needs to hear.

“It’s okay, I’m not bit,” he says. “I just got a little stabbed.”

Senku closes his eyes, drops his head on Taiju’s shoulder, then jumps up and smacks the teen over the head.

“You idiot! You can’t just go and do stupid things like that!”

* * *

With Taiju’s leg putting him out of commission for at least a few weeks, Senku is now on scavenger duty, leaving his friend to handle the gate. It’s a risk, since if he leaves, neither can get back in, but he trusts Taiju to handle it, at least until he can walk without limping again.

Unfortunately, Taiju also let it slip that he’d never had a Tetanus shot, and even if Senku had the means to concoct the drug, he has no needles.

Which is why he finds himself standing outside a hospital, knowing it’s a stupid decision, but choosing to risk it anyway. While it’s unlikely there’s anything left of value, he can’t see much movement from the windows, which means there can’t be too many  _ them _ inside.

Still, when he walks through the broken front doors, his senses are on high alert, one hand keeping his weapon close at hand. While Senku will never be a warrior, he’s learned more than once that sometimes, the only way to escape is to put  _ them  _ down as quickly as possible. That’s why his choice of weapon is a screwdriver. Taiju might prefer the bat, but he has the arm strength to crush the skull with one blow. Senku could be at it for hours. His best option, if he can’t run, is something close range. The  _ them _ have no balance, so quickly kicking out the legs gets them to the ground, and if you stab them in the eye, they shut down quickly. The older ones don’t even have eyeballs any more, so it’s a literal straight shot. At first, the act made him want to throw up – now, he almost does it without thinking. Just another day in the Apocalypse office.

As he makes his way up the stairs, he’s genuinely surprised by the lack of bodies he sees, either of  _ them _ or the true dead. It’s as if someone has been clearing the place fairly regularly. 

That suspicion becomes a full on conclusion however, when he takes his first step on the second floor, and crashes to the ground, the cutlery hooked to the wire clattering from where he’d tripped.

He desperately tries to get to his feet, only to feel a dark shadow lift him up – and slam him against the wall. The screwdriver goes flying across the floor, and Senku claws at the hand on his neck.

_ ‘Fuck. This was a mistake, _ ’ he thinks. ‘ _ I’m ten billion percent screwed here.’ _

The hand however, immediately lightens, and Senku gasps at the loss of pressure, finally getting a look at his assailant.

Tall, is his first assessment. Quickly followed by well built, and armed with a truly ridiculous amount of hair for someone living in a world with creatures that love to grab whatever they can get hold of.

Judging from the way this stranger's eyes are scanning his body, he’s coming to his own conclusions about Senku too. 

“You’re not from the earlier groups,” he says, and Senku is rather surprised at how soft the voice is. “I’m Shishio Tsukasa, and this building is under my control.”

“Senku,” he offers. “First time here, didn’t know. I’m just looking for a Tetanus shot, and a needle for it.”

Tsukasa looks at him. “You appear uninjured.”

“It’s not for me,” Senku says. “Look, I’ll stay out of your way, I just need one drug and I’m gone.”

Tsukasa’s face shutters.

“I’m afraid not,” he replies. “Every drug in this hospital has been claimed by myself. If you wish for something specific, you’ll need to trade for it.”

With that, he turns on his heel, and starts walking towards a nearby room. After glancing around, Senku decides to follow.

“So, I’m guessing you’re the reason this place is pretty empty, huh?” Senku asks. Tsukasa glances around, and nods. 

“When things started to fall apart, many people came to the hospital,” Tsukasa explains. “Some were evacuated, but many were too sick to move. Then the Dead appeared. At that point, nobody was willing to help anyone. It became the worst humanity had to offer.”

He looks down at his hands. “It took some time, but I was able to defend this floor. And once it was cleared, I emptied the rest of the building, and claimed it as my own.”

“This is a lot of space for one guy to defend,” Senku says. “And a lot of people must be trying their luck at this point. Wouldn’t it be better to grab what you can and run?”

It’s basically the auditorium all over again. Sure, Tsukasa has a lot of vital supplies, but this is not a fortifiable place long term. Tsukasa however, shakes his head.

“I can’t leave,” he says as they reach the room. He opens the door – and Senku suddenly understands what he means when he sees what lies inside.

It’s a young girl with pink hair, hooked to a dozen monitors – which in turn are hooked to what appears to be a hand cranked generator. In the corner, Senku spots batteries, and what looks to be oil cans. There’s also a normal generator, shoved to the side.

“She’s my sister, Mirai.” 

Senku nods. “You’re not using that generator?”

“No, it broke down several weeks ago,” Tsukasa explains, and kneels to wind the hand generated one. “This one I found in the basement for emergencies, but it’s been reducing the charge each time I use it. Once it’s down to nothing, I’ll be forced to use the batteries.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Senku asks, and Tsukasa stands up, gazing down at his sister.

“She’s clinically brain dead. Has been since she was six years old.”

Senku snaps his head to the girl, who is clearly at the start of puberty.

“You’ve been keeping her on life support this whole time,” he says. “Even after the world went to hell.”

He shakes his head. “This isn’t fair to her. At this point, it would be kinder to switch it off.”

“I know,” Tsukasa says, as if he’s had this conversation before. “But I can no more kill her than I could allow someone else to do it. And even if I could, and once the machines shut down, she’ll turn. So all I can do is keep her like this, as long as I can.”

Senku frowns, seeing a flaw in his logic. “But if she’s not bitten, she won’t turn. Letting the power shut off would save her from that.”

Tsukasa frowns at him, before his eyes widen in comprehension.

“Ah, you haven’t seen it,” he says. “It doesn’t take a bite to turn. We’re already infected. Death is the only requirement.”

Senku’s breath catches in his throat.

Already infected? 

A memory suddenly flashes - the schoolgirl who bit Shiori. She’d been bitten, but revived mere minutes later...

Is it airborne? Is this some kind of psychotic war tactic? A way to crush a country to pieces? Dammit, he let himself believe the zombie narrative subconsciously – of course there must be another way to get infected, or the infection wouldn’t exist in the first place!

...He needs that Tetanus shot. He’s not leaving without it.

“What do you want for the drugs?” he asks. “Food?”

“Oil, batteries, or another generator,” Tsukasa says, turning to stare at Mirai again. “I have food, supplies enough for one, but those items are in short supply. You want the drugs, you’ll find me something equal in trade.”

Now granted, Senku does have two batteries, but as cruel as it sounds, he isn’t sure he’s ready to trade one of them to someone with the intent to keep a dead child on life support. Not when electricity is becoming a power source in short supply. But he doesn’t have oil, and even if he had a generator, he couldn’t get it to Tsukasa.

However…

“You said that generator broke down, right?” he says, looking over at the machine. “What if I can get it working again? What’s that worth to you?”

Tsukasa blinks, and follows his gaze.

“If you can get it running, you can take what you want.”

Senku grins, and pulls down the top half of his leather outfit to roll up his sleeves.

“Well, I don’t have most of my tools, but let's see what I can do.”

* * *

It takes the better part of an hour, some  _ very  _ creative use of surgical tubing and gauze, and enlisting a scalpel when his screwdriver is just a little too big, but Senku starts cackling maniacally when the old, clunky generator breathes into life.

Tsukasa is immediately at his back, staring at the generator like a man trapped in a desert looks at a river spring. After a few minutes, it’s replaced the hand crank, and Tsukasa is looking at Senku with a far more generous expression than he’d earlier had.

“Take anything you need,” he says. “Even if it breaks down in an hour, it’s bought me time I didn’t have.”

“Hey, I don’t do shoddy work,” Senku snaps, patting the machine. “So long as you follow the instructions, this baby will run as long as you have fuel.”

Tsukasa glances over at his meagre collection of oil, and nods. Senku then looks at the girl – who from what Tsukasa has told him, has been the only company the teen has had for months.

“Maybe I’ll come by every now and then,” Senku says. “You know, just to do some maintenance. Trade you some things you can’t get?”

Tsukasa stares back for a moment, then smiles.

“I’d think I’d like that,” he answers. “Come. Let me show you the medical cabinet.”

* * *

He keeps his word. Every time he steps outside, he tries to pay Tsukasa a visit. While the pretence is to keep the generator running, he’s trying to keep Tsukasa company. The teen is broken in all the wrong ways, and Senku’s rather hoping he can talk him into surviving after all hope is lost for his sister.

Thankfully, one Tetanus shot and several antibiotics later, Taiju is doing much better, but Senku isn’t quite ready to let him out yet, and keeps him inside while he searches the city. Nowadays, he’s having to go quite the distance to have any luck, and Taiju is going to need thorough maps if he has any chance of making it out here.

Entering the theatre had been a desperate move. All of Senku’s locations were picked clean, and the  _ them _ were teeming in places he’d wanted to check, in a way that suggested there had been other survivors in the area recently. The theatre had been boarded up, but it looked fairly intact. Theaters also have bars and food options, but it would hardly be the first port of call for someone looking, so there might be something he can take. There’s no entrance from the ground floor, but there is a balcony, and the nearby building is close enough that you can jump across if you’re brave enough, and he does just that, slipping in through the shattered sliding door.

Glass crunches under his feet, and he takes in the large waiting room, heading straight for the bar to the side. There’s still a significant number of beers and wines in the cabinets, but he immediately goes for the water bottles and soda in the corner. There’s not nearly as many as he’d hoped – the cola in particular is stripped bare – but half a dozen bottles is better than nothing.

The door heading into the hallway is unlocked, and when he enters, there are musty floor length curtains on each side of the door. Opposite, he sees signs navigating him to different parts of the theatre, and a large staircase on his left, heading down to the ground floor. There are also signs suggesting there’s a cafe on the ground floor, which means more food.

The doors on the ground floor were all blockaded, and he hasn’t attracted anything from walking across the glass, so it’s worth the risk.

He makes it down the stairs, and takes a few steps towards the door leading to the cafe, when the sound of  _ them  _ hits his ears. Loud moans, of at least several, coming from the cafe.

He curses, spinning on his heel and fleeing back up the stairs. They can handle steps, but not well, so it’ll buy him time to get to the bar and jump-

Wait. 

He stops at the top of the stairs, and frowns. Now that the panic is over, something seems off about the noise. He’s not certain, but that moaning sounds...repetitive. Like someone’s playing a recording on a loop.

He stays still, trying to listen, and smiles when he  _ hears  _ the sounds repeat.

Oh, that’s clever. 

Rather than leave, he walks to the door he’d entered from, slamming it shut, but staying in the hall, instead choosing to hide behind one of the curtains. The sounds immediately cut off in an artificial way, but he remains hidden. A few minutes later, he hears movement – the first genuine sounds in the building, and spots a dark shadow moving across the ground. A singular figure, wrapped in layers of clothing, with a hood and face mask obscuring his features, and an old portable CD player being carried under one arm. He walks up the stairs with an impressive grace – right up until Senku throws the curtain to the side.

“Boo!”

The figure shrieks, tripping over his own feet and crashing at the top of the stairs. The CD player hits the ground, and Senku walks towards it first, pressing the play button, grinning as the sounds of  _ them _ echo in the room.

“I’m impressed,” he says, pressing the stop button to silence the moans. “Anyone who hears that would run for the hills.”

There’s a sigh, and Senku stands as his earlier target gets to his feet, the slits of his eyes watching Senku as if to gage his threat level.

“Yes, that’s the general idea.”

For a moment, Senku is struck with acute deja vu. The teen in front of him is a few years older, and has every shred of skin except for his eyes covered. But when he slips back his hood and pulls down the cloth mask, he’s positive he’s seen that face before.

“You look familiar,” he says, eyes narrowing as he takes in his features. A sharp chin, deep set grey eyes, and a strange black and white hairstyle…

“Ah, what do you know, my fame still survives to this ay-day,” the stranger says, and gives a short bow. “Asagiri Gen, at your service.”

Comprehension immediately flashes. “Right, you were that quack TV magician with the self help books.”

Gen smiles. “Read my work? How wonderful. But I prefer the term mentalist.”

The smile drops as he sighs, and glances around. “For all that it matters in this new world of ours. I take it you’re looking for supplies?”

“Yeah. Thought this place would be abandoned. Didn’t expect the headline act to still be on site,” Senku jokes. “But if you’ve got anything to trade, I’m happy to make a deal.”

* * *

Gen ends up leading him to what can only be called a den. It’s one of the private viewing boxes for the stage, and it requires going up a set of tight steps. The small space looks out on the empty stage, but there’s a decent pile of food, books and blankets scattered around the floor.

“Why shack up here?” Senku asks, noting that several of the other boxes look bigger. Gen shrugs.

“I know my limits. This box is low enough that if necessary, I can perform a controlled fall and survive the anding-lay. But it’s also out of the way and difficult to reach – the managers always had difficulty selling it for shows.”

Senku nods in understanding.

“Have you been here since the beginning?”

“No,” Gen says. “Only the last two weeks. Originally I was with a group, but they fractured in on themselves when supplies ran low. I think most of them tried to get out of the city.”

“You didn’t follow?” Senku asks, and Gen gives him a sharp smirk.

“When I say fracturing, I mean beyond repair,” he says. “I weighed my options and decided to make a break for it on my own. But, since there was no way I could make the trip out alone, I needed a place to get my bearings.”

He walks over to lean on the balcony, viewing the stage. “I did my first few performances here. I’ve always been rather fond of it, and I knew it was closed at the time this hit for furbishment-ray. Bet my life on it still being undisturbed.”

A bet that clearly came good, Senku thinks, looking at the snacks the other teen has accumulated. “Nobody else came looking once you made your way in?”

“A few have risked it,” Gen admits. “But my tricks are usually enough to make them flee.”

He looks over and smiles. “You’re the first to get over your initial panic and think things through. I can see how you’ve made it this long.”

Senku grins back.

Gen has a lot of high energy snack foods, but he needs things that aren’t pure sugar and fat. He also needs supplies for travelling, and is willing to offer clothing from the costume departments, which apparently includes more genuine leather, such as the outfit the mentalist is currently sporting.

“Also, if you can find a few bottles of cola, I’d be very grateful,” he tells Senku, once they’ve hashed out a trade for some of Senku’s canned food in exchange for his higher calorie content. “I grew up in this area, so I know where to find most supplies, but that I can’t find bottles of that for love or money. And it’s just not a good theatre experience without the right drink.”

“You know, you could come with me,” Senku offers. He could definitely use some company to help with Taiju. “It’s fairly safe, and you’d have company.”

Gen’s smile becomes a little strained.

“To be honest, I’ve had enough of company for a while,” he says. “Perhaps in the future, but for now, I feel safer on my own.”

Senku doesn’t like it, but he can hardly force the issue any more than he could Tsukasa. 

“You sure this place is safe?”

“As sure as I can be,” Gen replies. “To be honest, I’ve not had much to worry about. The place was already locked up tight beforehand, and my entrance is on the second floor, so Neets aren’t really an issue.”

Senku pauses. 

“Neets?”

Gen pauses, and bristles like an agitated cat – as if he’s had to defend himself on this before.

“I refuse to use the Z-word,” Gen huffs. “Neet is fitting.

Senku bursts into laughter. God, he wishes he’d thought of that. He’s also rewarded with a smile from Gen, more genuine than anything he’s worn so far.

“So, where’d you get the music player?” he asks once recovered. “Smart trick, but you must have had some trouble getting the pieces together.”

“Not really, it was the janitors,” Gen says. “He loved vintage junk like this. Managed to get enough of a charge to record and burn the CD, and he had quite a number batteries in his collection. He also had this-”

He leans over, rearranging some of the blankets on the floor to reveal an old radio, and Senku immediately leans forward. When he reaches over, Gen allows him to pluck it out of his hands.

“I’ve been trying to use it, but I only ever seem to get brief sounds before it cuts out,” Gen explains. 

“But you’re still finding them?” Senku asks. “So other people are trying to make contact.”

“Perhaps. They do sound live. But it’s hard to tell the inflections on a radio frequency.”

Senku nods, but his mind is already mentally taking the thing apart.

“Mind if I take a look?”

* * *

By the time Senku leaves, the radio isn’t perfect, but Gen is finally picking up more than a short phrase here and there, and Senku promises to return with a proper kit, in order to get a better signal. He also plans to hand over another one of his modded walkie talkies, so he can communicate with him should he ever need help.

While he dislikes leaving someone alone, Gen seems quite settled in the theatre, and Senku does see the value in having an additional storehouse. Gen will obtain food, and Senku will provide him with anything else. His location is closer to the functioning aerials too, so there’s more chance of him picking up a signal from other people. It’s been long enough – there must be  _ some _ kind of civilisation starting to rebuild. Humanity has always fought to thrive, and Senku refuses to believe that this is the event that takes them down.

* * *

It took Taiju 1,123,600 seconds to recover from his injuries, and another 259,200 to convince Senku to let him out again, swearing on his friendship that he won’t chase after Yuzuriha right now. They’re back to their original tag team, swapping places with each other. Taiju doesn’t like Senku going out alone, but the feeling is assuredly mutual, and Senku is the one making contacts and putting together the maps. These days, his multiple routes are engraved in his head.

900 seconds to the market. He has to be out in 1,500 seconds. Then, 3,000 seconds to the hospital – including stops along the way – to check on Tsukasa, and a straight shot to the Theatre after that. A 2,100 journey with two scavenging drops, and when he’s done there, he takes one of four routes back. If there are no incidents, he can be back to Taiju and the base in less than 12,000 seconds, three and a half hours. If he keeps to the plan, and his luck stays good, little can go wrong.

Of course, Senku has never been known for his luck.

It’s a foolish decision that takes him down a street he’s gone down three times in a row. Normally, he mixes up the routes, making sure nobody can predict his steps. While getting around  _ them  _ is vital, nowadays, humans are the more dangerous enemy. He, Gen and Tsukasa are in the minority – in this new world, people take what they want.

But he’s behind schedule. There’s been too many people to avoid. Taiju will get antsy if he’s gone too long, and he’s already 3,120 seconds later than usual. This is the fastest route home, and the one he knows best.

So of course, he lets his guard down, and doesn’t notice the other man running out the alley and slamming straight into him. He crashes to the ground, and the man doesn’t stop, fleeing down the road.

“Get the fuck away from me!” he screams, and the man’s choice not to pat him down lights a fire in Senku’s gut. He jerks up into a sitting position, and curses as one of  _ them _ is suddenly upon him, appearing from the alley and reaching for Senku where he lies.

“Shit! Get away!” Senku hisses, trying to get to his feet. He fails, and suddenly the thing is on him, with only Senku’s skinny, middle school arms holding him back by the shoulders – eyes wide at the snapping jaw and vacant eyes.

It’s not just being trapped – the noise from it and Senku’s own struggles will lure over more of  _ them.  _ If he doesn’t get loose, he’ll be overwhelmed. Already, he can hear the sounds of more of  _ them _ coming from the alley. His attacker doesn’t care, merely clawing at Senku’s clothes, trying to get a grip, and he growls back, trying to get his legs and maybe kick the thing away.

He nearly gets a knee raised up to his chest, calculating the force necessary to get loose, when one hand slips, and the zom- the thing suddenly gets far too close. Senku shrieks, trying to block the mouth with his leather clad arm-

-When an arrow pierces straight through its skull, and the dead corpse collapses on top of him. Senku sits frozen, taking in the sight, before his eyes look up.

There, to the left, someone is dropping from the roof of a burnt out car. He gets closer as Senku shoves the corpse off him and stumbles to his feet, stopping a respectable distance away, face obscured by a brimmed hat. 

“Are you hurt?” he asks, voice soft, and Senku shakes his head.

“No, you got it just in time,” he says, stepping over the body. His new saviour sighs in relief, and slips the bow onto his back.

“Good, I’m glad,” he says, and tilts the hat up to reveal green eyes and white hair. “I’m Ukyo.”

“Senku,” he greets, and takes a better look at Ukyo’s outfit. While he’s also wearing a leather jacket, the outfit underneath looks very familiar.

“So, what’s a member of the Maritime Self Defence Force doing this far from the harbour?”

To Ukyo’s credit, his eyes only widen slightly, before he smiles and glances down at the uniform, now in terrible condition.

“The harbour was overwhelmed by the infected pretty early on,” he says, before his eyes dim. “Most of the crew didn’t make it out. Was with a group for a while, but we fell apart. Been on my own ever since.”

He looks up. “What about you? Out here alone?”

“I have backup,” Senku replies, mulling over the possibilities. “You’re pretty handy with that bow though, guess you don’t need it.”

“More reliable than a gun, and don’t need to be as close,” Ukyo admits, then winces, his head turning towards the alley, where moans are getting louder. “Getting good was pretty necessary...but I could use some assistance.”

Senku goes tense. “Oh?”

Ukyo nods. “I caught the attack because I was tailing you. I’ve been watching you and your friend Taiju for days. You have food and medicine, and I’m in dire need of both.”

* * *

Senku quickly gets the story out of him as they flee before the rest of  _ them _ arrive. When Ukyo’s group splintered, he’d first ran off, only to circle back and return to maintain their hideout. But after a few weeks, looters came hunting, emboldened by the lack of people coming and going. And as competent as Ukyo may be with a bow, he’s never actually killed a person before. 

“I understand that I might have to do it one day, but I’ll hold off as long as I can,” he told Senku, and from the expression on his face when he’d said it, Senku had believed him.

Unfortunately, his attempts to protect his home left him without supplies or shelter, and he’s now desperate to amend that. The city is now overrun with infected and groups that are quickly turning to violence to protect what little is left, and Ukyo has been raised and trained to function in a team. His hearing is apparently top notch, and he’s overheard Senku talking to Taiju about the people he trades with. Apparently, Ukyo figures the guy still managing to maintain some semblance of civility even now, is a good bet.

Part of Senku wants to tell him to get lost. The other part of him, the part that’s thinking about Taiju, and how much he dislikes leaving him alone, knows there’s strength in numbers.

Besides, if Ukyo really wanted to cause him harm, he didn’t have to reveal himself. Senku had no idea he was being tailed. If he tells him to leave, there’s no guarantee he won’t follow anyway.

When they hop over the blockade and head up the stairs, Ukyo hums in approval at the heavy gate and it’s pulley system, commenting on how he can’t believe Senku managed to jerry rig something like that up. Taiju, still limping on a crutch, quickly goes into Senku-appreciation-mode, which both somehow lowers Ukyo’s guard, and has him tenser than a spring. It’s only after an hour, when Ukyo realises that despite this teen’s obvious strength, he’s not about to attack, that the man relaxes.

“You were very lucky,” he comments, looking around the flat. Senku has managed to break into his neighbours, and offered him that space, but Ukyo seems content to remain in his. “Not as many people were as prepared as you.”

“It wasn’t luck,” Senku replies. “A lot of people fled without realising they were leaving a lot of essentials behind. At the beginning, the safest place was home.”

Ukyo nods. “The group I ended up with, they were mostly people who realised that too. We used to go around, breaking into abandoned properties and walking away with armfuls of food and equipment. Some of us couldn’t believe it was just lying there.”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t believe what Senku managed to find in his neighbour’s homes,” Taiju says. “We and the Ruuto’s did fine for ages, didn’t even have to leave much.”

“The Ruuto’s?”

Senku shrugs. “Only neighbours that didn’t flee. But when supplies started getting low, we had to start leaving. One of their kids got bit, and they decided to try and get to a hospital, see if there was a cure.”

Ukyo looks down at his hands.

“You never know, they might have made it!” Taiju defends. Neither of them answer him. “We don’t know there’s not a cure. Maybe they even caught up with Yuzuriha.”

“Yuzuriha?” Ukyo asks, and Taiju immediately starts talking about the amazing and wonderful girl who made their outfits and was desperately worried about her parents.

Ukyo clearly hears what goes unsaid as Taiju talks, glancing over at Senku, who merely looks out the window, staring at the sky as night falls.

* * *

Five days later, when he’s bringing Gen some supplies, along with handmade cola fashioned from a neighbours herb garden and random items that had been left behind in supermarkets as non-useful to the uninformed (you’d be amazed at how much you can do even with synthesized lime juice), he mentions their new arrival.

“Wait, Ukyo?” Gen asks, pausing in his admiration of Senku’s ingenuity. “Of the Maritime Defence Force?”

Senku’s eyes widened. “You know him?”

“If he has green eyes, white hair and exceptional hearing? I might.”

“Yup, that’s him,” Senku says, panic gripping him. “Should I be worried?”

He left Ukyo with Taiju, confident that Ukyo was on the level, but if it turns out he wasn’t...

Gen however, smiles. 

“Not really. We were in the same group, but he was never someone I was worried about.”

“The group that splintered?” 

The one that probably killed each other? That group?

Gen shakes his head. “Yes, but Ukyo...he likes having someone to follow, but it was clear he didn’t like the way the group was heading. I’m not surprised he did the same as me and fled when he had the chance.”

“So, if I mention you, he won’t react badly?” Senku asks, and Gen shrugs.

“He might. I’m fairly certain he thinks I’m dead,” he says, then smiles at Senku’s raised eyebrows.

“For what it’s worth, he’s a good man,” Gen says. “Just not great at speaking his mind. But you could do a lot worse when it comes to watching your back. If nothing else, I’d certainly ask him if he knows if anyone else stayed behind.”

* * *

When he returns to the base, he waits until the evening before mentioning his stop. When he utters the name, Ukyo seems as shocked at the mentalist.

“Asagiri Gen?” Ukyo says, eyes wide. “He’s alive?”

“Yeah. He’s hiding out in the city, trying to scan radio signals before he looks for a way out,” Senku explains. “For what it’s worth, when he heard your name, he gave me a glowing recommendation.”

Ukyo gives a weak chuckle, and after turning towards the bedroom that hosts a sleeping Taiju, joins Senku on the couch.

“I’m surprised he didn’t send a message in the form of an obscene gesture,” he says, leaning back and resting his head on the edge. “I saw what was happening and didn’t even try to help.”

“The group that fell apart?” Senku asks. Ukyo nods.

“Gen told you?”

“Bits and pieces,” Senku fudges, and Ukyo laughs.

“You know, I think he’s the only reason that group survived as long as it did,” Ukyo says. “Hyoga, he was strong, and adaptable. I think that’s why a lot of us were drawn to him at the beginning, even though he was young. But Gen was the one doing damage control, keeping people from doing anything dangerous. He was sealing the cracks before they became an issue. We almost had a functioning community going before it all fell apart.”

“What happened?”

Ukyo shrugged. “When our supplies started to dwindle, Hyoga started taking a pretty severe stance. You wanted food, or medicine, you had to work for it. That wasn’t too bad, but then he started favouring ‘useful’ people. If you were too old, or too young, or couldn’t maintain the same level as everyone else, he would cut you off. You’d be given the dangerous jobs, like distracting the infected, or going out to fix the blockades. Eventually, we started to realise they weren’t coming back.”

“But you didn’t confront him about it?” Senku presses. Ukyo shakes his head.

“I think...I think we all just...accepted it?” he says. “Nobody wanted to rock the boat. As long as you did the work, you were safe, right? But one trip out, Gen didn’t come back, and without him working the social side of things, Hyoga’s mantra became the least of our worries. In the end, a few people scattered, and other groups split off, all of them heading out of town. Found a few later on, bitten, but as far as I can tell, Hyoga’s main group got out of the city.”

“But not you.”

Ukyo shakes his head. “I guess I couldn’t bring myself to leave. And none of the groups were being run by anyone I trusted to keep us safe. I decided I had a better chance making it alone. Didn’t take me long to realise that was a mistake, but by then, everyone was gone.”

He stands, and stretches. “Next time you see him, could you tell him I’m sorry? I’d do it myself, but I doubt he wants to see me.”

* * *

Senku doesn’t know if Ukyo is actually asleep or not when he slips out the front door and heads to the far corner of the building, but hopefully the walls will muffle the call. He lifts up the walkie talkie, and looking out at the city, presses the ‘talk’ button.

“Hey, Mentalist. You still up?”

The radio crackles, but a few moments later, he hears Gen’s mocking chuckles.

“I am now,” he says. “Did Ukyo spill the beans? I always took him for the strong silent type.”

“Eh, I might have made him think I knew more than I did, but yeah. Think he needed to explain it to someone.”

The smile slips from his face.

“You didn’t say your group tried to kill you.”

“Well, they didn’t,” Gen says. “I didn’t give them the chance to try.” 

“The way Ukyo tells it, you kept them in one piece,” Senku continues. “Did you really think no one would watch your back.”

Gen goes silent, long enough that Senku wonders if his batteries have died.

“I wasn’t the first,” he says. “Nobody would watch my back, because that would require them to admit there was a reason to need to.”

This time, Senku stays quiet, and waits until Gen sighs.

I figured it out pretty early on,” Gen admits. “But we also had a reporter in the group, a Minami-something-or-other, and she made it a point to know everyone. She mentioned that people were going missing at a startling pace, and I started to put it together.”

His voice goes low as he continues. “Then Minami left on a scouting trip with Hyoga, and didn’t come back. We were told she was bitten in an ambush, but that woman used to tail corrupt politicians – she was the master of getting away. She disappeared because she was asking the wrong questions. Questions I was also asking.”

“So you decided to fake your death before Hyoga did it for you,” Senku concludes.

“Nothing that dramatic,” Gen says. “I had an area to check out on a scavenger run, slipped away from my partner, and just...didn’t come back. Hyoga was probably quite relieved that I took myself out of the equation before he had to.”

Senku nods before remembering Gen can’t see it.

“Is that why you’re staying solo?” he asks. He has evidence the mentalist does best in social situations, and while the theatre has been good at catching random radio signals with Senku’s tune up, it does mean Gen spends most of his time alone. “Worried we’ll try and stab you in the back?”

“Of course not,” Gen replies. “If you wanted me dead, you’d come from the front.”

Senku laughs before he can stop himself. “Night, Mentalist.”

“Goodnight, Senku.”

* * *

Things continue like that for a while, with Senku using his trips out to trade with Tsukasa and Gen, and Taiju and Ukyo searching for new resources. Between them, they manage to keep a good supply for some time. With a pair heading out each time, they can go further, and check more – especially with Ukyo’s ears keeping them out of danger. 

Unfortunately, after nearly six months of picking a city clean, they’re coming back empty handed more often than not. As such, 13,910,422 seconds after the world ended, Senku is in the hospital, watching Tsukasa handle a precious can of motor oil with a grim look on his face.

“That’s the last of the oil,” Senku says, looking at the now barren corner.

“I know.”

“...You’re going to have to make a choice eventually.”

“I know, Senku,” Tsukasa repeats, and Senku sighs, dusting off his knees as he stands up. 

“I’ve modded this thing as much as it’ll take, but there’s only so much it’ll do. Unless you find a new supply, this generator will run out in a month.”

“At which point I’ll return to the hand crank,” Tsukasa answers, staring at the girl on the bed. Senku can only stare at the two of them. It’s like viewing a car crash just before the impact.

He’s made a point to always come here alone. Taiju would get far too sentimental, and insist on staying to help, and Ukyo is still reeling from his failure to keep his first group apart. They know he exists, but not about his sister. Neither of them would be able to handle Tsukasa and his desperate, hopeless quest. 

But staring at the broken figure hovering over the tiny body, he’s starting to wish he had. Taiju is a lot better at reaching people’s hearts when the fault is emotional. Or Yuzuriha...if they’d crossed paths just a few weeks earlier…

“People are getting desperate,” Senku says, thinking back to all the times Ukyo’s warned them of incoming survivors, raiding what’s left of the meagre supplies. “And even if I’ve helped fix up the battery for the hand crank, it’s not got more than a few weeks.”

Tsukasa doesn’t answer, and Senku pushes.

“You’ve done more than anyone could have asked of you,” he says. “Even before all this. Don’t you think it’s time to step back?”

That has Tsukasa shifting, turning to stare at him.

“You’ve always been a rational man, Senku,” Tsukasa answers. “You look for solutions, and ways to fix what can be fixed. I understand why you’re trying to help.”

He turns back to Mirai. “I won’t think less of you if you don’t visit again.”

Senku sighs, and runs a hand through his hair. 

“Would she want you to die here?” Senku asks as his final move. Tsukasa shakes his head.

“No,” he admits. “But she’s no longer here to offer me her opinion.”

And if that’s not enough to move him, Senku’s certainly not going to succeed.

* * *

The very same day, Senku visits Gen, and gets some unexpected news. A broadcast on the radio, clear as a bell.

“It was someone called Nanami Ryuusui,” Gen says. “Of the Nanami corporation. He’s somehow got together a ship, and a community together, and is calling for any survivors to join him.”

“Do you believe it?”

Gen shrugs. “It  _ sounds _ sincere. And at this point I don’t really have anything to lose by chasing a voice. With the way our supplies my supplies are going, I would have been ready to risk leaving town in a few weeks regardless.”

“Where?”

“Yokohama Port,” Gen says. “He says he intends to leave in seven days. That’s more than doable from here, even with delays.”

He then leans in.

“However,” he says. “No one can get out of this city alone. It’s still too dangerous. But if we work together-”

“I get it,” Senku interrupts, and nods. “But I’ve got a few stops to make along the way.”

* * *

He agrees to meet Gen in two days, just outside a shrine near the river that has so far been relatively free from  _ them _ . When he gets back to the apartment however, Taiju is more reluctant at the concept of moving than he expected.

“It’s just, we’ve been fine here so far,” he says. “Maybe we should stick around a little longer?”

“Taiju, we haven’t managed to find anything new in weeks,” Ukyo tells him. “The supplies just aren’t here any more.”

“He’s right,” Senku says. “I know I’m the one that said home was the best bet, but it’s no longer suitable. We can’t survive in Tokyo any longer, we need to move on.”

Taiju looks at both of them, and drops his shoulders.

“But, we can’t just leave,” he says. “Yuzuriha hasn’t come back yet.”

Senku opens his mouth – and immediately closes it. He starts scratching at his scalp, wondering how to word this.

“Taiju, she’s not coming back,” he says, going for blunt honesty.

“We don’t know that!” Taiju insists, and frowns when Ukyo puts a hand on his shoulder, looking as sympathetic as he can.

“Taiju, from what you’ve told me, it’s been months,” he says. “If she could make it back, she would have.”

“But, maybe they just have more supplies where she is, and-”

“Then wouldn’t she insist on telling us about it?” Senku cuts in. But at his crestfallen friend's face, decides to throw him a bone.

“It’s more likely that she made her way out of town. Maybe she found her parents and they went as a group, or she joined one. If she ran into a neighbour who told her where they went, don’t you think she’d follow that lead?”

Taiju’s face calms down slightly, and Senku hides the wince that comes from the hope now in his eyes.

“You think so?” he asks. “Hey, do you think that if we go to this Ryuu guy, Yuzuriha might be there too?”

Ukyo is boring holes into Senku’s skull, but he steadfastly refuses to look as his smiles.

“It’s not impossible,” Senku says. “And I’m ten billion percent sure Yuzuriha isn’t in Tokyo any more.”

At least, not alive anyway. But if Taiju refuses to acknowledge that, Senku isn’t going to make him.

Taiju still looks a little torn.

“I’ll agree to leave, but we have to stop by Yuzuriha’s house first,” he insists. “I’m not leaving until I know for sure.”

“Okay,” Senku agrees. It’s a risky detour, but if it gets Taiju on board, Senku can do it.

* * *

“You lied to him,” Ukyo says later that night, once he’s certain Taiju is asleep. Senku merely turns over, and stares up at the crescent moon.

“It wasn’t a lie,” he says. “If Yuzuriha is still alive, she’d have come back, one way or another. From what you and Gen have told me, a lot of groups tried to make their way out around the same time. If her parents were part of one, or she got word of where they are, she’d have taken the risk.”

“If,” Ukyo clarifies. “The most important part of that theory is the ‘if,’ Senku.”

He shrugs. “She was my friend too, but she knew the risks when she left. It’s why she left the way she did. And if Yuzuriha is dead, there is nothing any of us can do. But so long as we don’t know that, we can choose to believe the best case scenario.

He can feel Ukyo’s eye on him, before he huffs, and turns away.

“He’ll have to face reality sooner or later.”

Senku moves his eyes from the moon, and starts cataloguing the stars. Looking for that one specific light.

“Until you prove otherwise, beyond any shred out of doubt, there’s nothing wrong with hope,” Senku says.

Because the thing is, Senku understands that hope. The need to believe, despite every factor standing in their way, that someone you cared about survived. Because unless the world manages to right itself, he’s  _ never going to know  _ what happened to Byakuya. 

His rocket was supposed to be in the air a few hours before the global news shut down. He might have made it to space, where he’s likely safe from everything happening on earth. But at the same time, Nasa is closely linked to the US government. They might have cancelled the mission in the wake of the upcoming crisis, and left Byakuya fighting to survive in a foreign country. 

Is his old man in the US, trying to find a way to get to Senku, or is he in space, unable to do anything but watch the planet below him burn? Is he dead? Alive? Senku doesn’t know. And logically, he can’t find out any time soon.

Still, he hopes. Hopes that even in all this mess, at least one Ishigami fulfilled the dream of going to space. That every time he looks up at the International Space Station in the sky, that Byakuya is looking down on him too.

* * *

The next day, Senku leaves early, heading straight for the hospital. While he knows Tsukasa has planted himself pretty damn deep, he can’t leave without at least trying to get the guy to follow. At this point, Senku almost considers him a friend, and he at least should have the decency to make sure Tsukasa is as prepared as he can be, before he says goodbye.

The first thing he realises, when he reaches the usual hallway, is the lack of trap. Second, there’s blood on the floor. Third, and most ominous, is the appearance of several bodies sprawled across the ground, all with their heads bashed in. 

His hands go for his screwdriver.

“Tsukasa?” he calls, heart sinking when he hears no answer. He gingerly steps inside, and tiptoes towards Mirai’s room.

He sees the bed, and the monitors. But there’s no generator, or oil, or batteries. And most importantly, no Mirai. 

In addition, there’s a giant pool of dried blood next to Tsukasa’s favourite chair, toppled over and glued to the ground.

“Shit,” Senku whispers, leaning back.

Tsukasa’s desperate attempt to keep his sister alive had finally failed. The more people that stepped into the hospital looking for supplies, the more word spread of the priceless hoard inside. Medicine, food, batteries, that goddamn generator. As strong as the teen is, this was a war he had no hope of winning.

As he steps back, he hears moaning coming down the hall, and he braces himself, before turning to face the inevitable.

Tsukasa. Pale skin and rolled back eyes. In front of him, a little pink haired girl, crawling across the ground – her legs too weak to support her.

Not for the first time, he’s grateful he never brought Taiju to meet Tsukasa. The last thing he needs is to see this.

He closes his eyes, giving himself five seconds to curse at the unfairness of it all, before pulling out his screwdriver.

“I’m sorry, Tsukasa,” he says, taking careful steps forward. “I wish you could have had a happier ending.”

Mirai would be easier, but in honour of Tsukasa’s memory, he goes for the taller teen first. With his mind as dull as every other  _ them _ , he doesn’t even try to react to the medical trolley ramming into his midsection, sending him crashing to the floor. Senku is immediately over his head, and stabs the screwdriver straight into his eye.

He’s killed  _ them _ before, dozens of times. But never so fresh. And never with a face he knows. It takes more effort than he’d expected, and when Tsukasa goes limp, Senku has to fight the bile rushing to the back of his throat. Fuck. Fuck all of this.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes. “You didn’t deserve this, I’m sorry.”

He’s already spent, but Mirai is crawling towards him, hands outreached and mouth gaping. From the trolley, he grabs a surgical tray, and uses it to pin her to the ground, trapping her arms out of the way. Her head is jerking, but it’s slow enough that his weapon hits its target.

This time, he does throw up, rolling off the girl's body and letting his body eject his last meal, and then dry heave. 

He wishes he could give them a burial, but Tsukasa is too heavy for him to shift. Instead, he drags Mirai over him, wrapping Tsukasa’s arms around her small frame. Then, he takes the sheets for Mirai’s bed, and drapes them over their prone bodies.

“Rest in Peace,” Senku offers, before he steps back.

At least they’re back together now.

* * *

The next day, the three of them grab everything that still has value in the building, and let the gate fall down behind them. There’s a ladder in the backyard, should they need to retreat back, or someone in poor fortune needs a new base, but Senku suspects he’ll never set foot here again.

It’s why he also grabs a photo from the wall. One of the first ever taken of him, back when Byakuya got the adoption papers. It’s never been any more important to him than any other photo on the wall, and yet he can’t quite bring himself to leave it behind.

After the slaughter at the hospital, he half expects Gen to be missing from the shrine. That if he slips back into town, he’ll find the mentalist shuffling around on the stage, in a macabre parody of his life. It’s beyond a relief when they get closer, and a man steps out the gate, bicoloured hair obvious above the mask.

“Gen, you’re here,” Senku says, throwing up a hand in a wave. Gen lifts his own hand up, as they reach him.

“Senku. And this must be Taiju,” Gen says, glancing at the teen on Senku’s left. Taiju grins.

“Yup. Nice to meet you,” he says. Gen then turns to the other man in their group. 

“Gen,” Ukyo greets with a smile, and the mentalist smiles back.

“Ukyo.”

The older man hesitates for a moment. 

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re okay,” Ukyo offers. “I’m sorry for what happened.”

Gen shrugs.

“We’ve all done things we wish we hadn’t,” he says. “At this point, there’s no point wasting time on them.”

He then turns back to Senku. “So, Yokohama. I have a few ideas on routes, but I suspect you have your own ideas?”

Senku nods. “We have to cross the river a little sooner than I’d like, but we need to check a neighbourhood, just in case a friend’s still there.”

His eyes subconsciously glance slide to the left, and he knows Gen sees it. The other teen clearly gets the hint, so doesn’t mention it.

“Very well. But we’d better keep moving,” Gen says. “That’s not a safe place to stay.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Yuzuriha will be there and waiting for us,” Taiju says, smiling wide. Gen glances back at Senku, but silently steps in line.

“Yuzuriha?” he whispers to Ukyo, when the two are behind Taiju and Senku. “The girl who left months ago?”

“Yeah. Taiju wouldn’t agree to leave unless we checked her house,” Ukyo whispers back. “It’s not that far out of the way, so-”

“Ah, I see.”

Someone tugs on the back of Senku’s collar, and he’s not surprised to see it’s Gen.

“I hope you’re prepared for when he sees the inevitable,” he warns. Senku closes his eyes, the image of a  _ them _ wearing the face of Tsukasa flashing through his head.

“I’ll deal with that when it comes,” Senku says, and starts walking faster.

Approximately 15,201,280 seconds after the world ends, Senku leaves Tokyo behind.

* * *

It takes three days to make it to Yokohama Port. Along the way, they run into a few survivors, all desperately heading for the beacon. None of them are particularly interested in talking, and the groups more or less just flock together for protection. Senku’s group is no different – Gen’s still paranoid, Ukyo’s focused on trying to hear moans over the number of voices, Senku’s focused on Taiju, and Taiju-

Well, Taiju hasn’t said a word in over 242,800 seconds. Not since they came across Yuzuriha’s neighbourhood and found most of the houses burned to the ground and the streets teeming with  _ them _ . There was no sign of her, or anyone else they knew - at least not alive. Taiju had dropped to his knees when the reality finally hit, and shut down. 

Senku never should have agreed to take him there. There was zero percent chance of finding Yuzuriha, and all going there did, was break his oldest friend. It was incredible they all made it out in one piece.

There’s a group of about twenty that hits Yokohama Port, and finds a wall of wreckage in the way. There are men with guns patrolling the top, but they open the gates once the group arrives. Senku’s eyes widen as he starts to see makeshift buildings hauled together from old storage containers, and the sheer number of living people wandering around.

“Welcome to Yokohama,” says the person who meets them at the gate. They’re short, with ringlets tightly bound back in a ponytail, while dressed in a leather suit. “I am François. I take it you heard Master Ryuusui’s message?”

“There’s really a ship?” Gen pipes up, looking suspicious and as taught as Senku has ever seen him. “And a community? Quite a few people are already here.”

“Yes. Thankfully, Master Ryuusui has more than one,” François. explains. “Anyone who wishes to board will have to undergo an inspection for bites and prove they have a useful skill, but otherwise you’re free to board, or remain in this community. The Nanami corporation are traveling the world, looking for a cure to this affliction.”

That...that actually sounds a lot more promising than Senku had expected. His eyes keep scanning the buildings, and feels himself smiling at what he sees.

He knew it. Give humanity enough time, and they’ll always try to rebuild.

“Please follow me, and I’ll escort you to quarantine. We have to ensure there’s no illnesses or injuries for new arrivals.”

The group move as one, shuffling down a side street cordoned off with rope from the rest of the town. 

“How long has this been here,” Ukyo asks, looking around with a rather shell shocked look on his face.

“About three months,” François. answers. “But most of what you see is new. It took a lot of minds and manpower to create a safe space this large. The ships are what allow the necessary resources.”

“Do you have a registry?” Gen also asks, sounding tense. “For those looking for anyone missing.”

“We do. But it’s rather long, so don’t ask me for anyone specific. After your check ups, your names will be added.”

“Antastic-fay,” Gen mutters under his breath. Ukyo also looks rather awkward, and Senku rather hopes that if any of their old group did make it here, that it’s the non pro-culling group.

They make it to the largest building, probably an old warehouse, and get ready to enter, when Ukyo’s head jerks up.

“Senku, someone’s calling for you and Taiju.”

Taiju doesn’t stop moving, but Senku stops, and looks into the town, where some of the residents are looking at the new arrivals. Now that he’s focusing, he can almost make out the voice.

“-aiju!”

His eyes widen, and he steps forward, grabbing Taiju by the collar.

“Taiju, stop. Listen!”

Taiju obeys, but he only turns his head towards Senku, not taking in the sound at all. Senku keeps his eyes on the crowd, and his eyes widen when someone finally bursts through.

“Senku! Taiju!”

His jaw drops in shock, and Taiju stiffens, light starting to return to his eyes.

“No way,” Senku says in disbelief, gaping at the figure. Taiju on the other hand, explodes.

“YUZURIHA!”

The guards yelp as he runs towards her, bursting past the simple ropes and grabbing the girl in a tight hug. She just laughs and returns it. Senku can only stare, his brain going through the odds and coming up short. Yuzuriha had vanished, running into part of the city that was inhospitable, looking for people who had less of a chance of making it than she did, and yet, here she was. Looking no worse for wear other than a much shorter hairstyle.

“You like it?” she says, pulling at the ends self consciously. “Long hair really isn’t appropriate these days, so...”

“I love it!” Taiju says. “I’m just, it’s just- I’m so happy to see you!”

He hugs her again, and Yuzuriha laughs, allowing the contact, and smiles over Taiju’s shoulder at the shocked Senku.

“Sorry I made you worry,” she says.

* * *

Once Taiju finally lets Yuzuriha go, he finds himself having to apologise to the agitated guards – but Yuzuriha soothes most of the issue by promising to join them in quarantine. Senku and Taiju are practically glued to her side, unable to take their eyes off her, while Gen and Ukyo trail behind, whispering furiously and looking as astonished as Senku feels. They’re taken to part of the building filled with cots, and they settle on a few of them, to question the girl on her survival.

“Did you parents make it?” Taiju asks, barely even blinking.

“My father did,” she replies. “My mother...well, my father keeps avoiding the topic, but I think he... _ saw _ her?”

Senku nods in understanding, and Yuzuriha continues her tale.

“There was a helicopter evacuation performed at the hospital, and he managed to get a seat on one of the last flights out, because nobody else was healthy enough to travel, or wouldn’t leave their family,” she says. “My father said he wasn’t worried about me, because, and I quote, ‘she’ll be with Taiju and that genius friend of hers. I know they’ll keep her safe.’”

Senku doesn’t even try to hold back the laugh, and Taiju blushes, rubbing the back of his head.

“I still can’t believe I made it home, the route was blocked and overrun with  _ them _ . The neighbourhood was ruined,” Yuzuriha says. “But I ran into a big group, heading out. This girl, Nikki, was scouting ahead, and brought me in. Told me that anyone who’d made it here would have had to keep moving East. I wanted to come back, I  _ did _ , but there just wasn’t a safe route, and they couldn’t wait.”

“A big group heading out would attract the Neets,” Gen says, and Yuzuriha nods – only blinking a little at Gen’s choice in word.

“Right. So I stuck with them, and we made it here. Some moved on, looking for family or friends, but when I was registered, I found my Dad, and we’ve been here ever since. I knew eventually, you’d move on, and there’s no way you wouldn’t find this place. Was it the radio?”

Senku nods, and gestures over to the other members of their group.

“You can thank Gen for that one. He had a radio and stuck near the centre. Never would have heard it without him.”

“Charmed to meet you,” Gen says. “I’ll go against my nature and be brutally honest, I genuinely did not expect to see you alive.”

“What” Taiju yelps, scandalised.

“Same here,” Ukyo adds. “But Taiju and Senku have told us a lot.”

Yuzuriha smiles. “Glad to meet you. Thanks for taking care of my boys.”

“Oh they did most of the taking care,” Gen assured her.

“Hey, Yuzuriha. Got a question,” Senku says, drawing the conversation back to them. “This Ryuusui, and his ships. Do they ever go to America?”

“Um, I think so,” Yuzuriha answers. “They’ve got a few scientists they picked up from English countries, so they probably have communities over there.”

“Wait, you want to go to America Senku?” Taiju asks, looking puzzled. “Why?”

Senku shrugs. “Lots of drugs and scientific resources there. If we want to find a cure, it’s a good place to start.”

Yuzuriha starts smiling. “Right, you once went to Africa to study diseases right? Once you’re out of quarantine, you should mention that. They’ll happily take you on board.”

Senku laughs, and looks up at the roof. He already misses being able to see the sky, but for the first time, he doesn’t feel the overwhelming need to check it.

The odds are ridiculously low. Even if he can reach the US, there’s nearly zero percent chance he’ll find Byakuya, or a way to contact him.

But thirty minutes ago, he would have said there’s a ten billion percent chance Yuzuriha was dead too. So why not take the chance? 

As Taiju is called in for his examination, and Yuzuriha moves to another cot, Senku leans back on his bed, and starts planning for the future.

Six months, 15,201,280 seconds ago, Senku’s world ended, and time was measured from that moment onwards. 

But 15,201,282 seconds into this Wednesday, he restarts the clock.

**Author's Note:**

> Had to really start speed writing to get this finished in time, so a few scenes are not nearly as detailed as I wanted, but this beast was never meant to be this long so (shrugs). Hope you enjoy!


End file.
